"Finally, I suspect that it is by entering that deep place inside us where our secrets are kept that we come perhaps closer than we do anywhere else to the One who, whether we realize it or not, is of all our secrets the most telling and the most precious we have to tell." Frederick Buechner
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"If you are a dreamer, come in. If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a Hope-er, a Pray-er, a Magic Bean buyer; if you're a pretender, come sit by my fire. For we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!" -- Shel Silverstein
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Driving Ms. Conroy
I am happy to report that, one week later, Ms. Conroy is making remarkable progress in her recovery from knee surgery. And, so am I.
Herself is now able to drive the car to small errands around town all by herself, which is no small feat. I'm not sure that's 'allowed' by her doctor, but, she's even thinking of driving herself to Rehoboth Beach this week, if my vacation is delayed.
She'll not get any argument from me.
So, to celebrate the possibility of automotive freedom, here's a wee joke for me Irish lassie. (hat tip to Doug). You will be so kind as to make the appropriate gender translations.
Let the reader understand.
A wife was making a breakfast of fried eggs for her husband.
Suddenly, her husband burst into the kitchen.
'Careful,' he said, 'CAREFUL! Put in some more butter! Oh my gosh! You're cooking too many at once. TOO MANY! Turn them! TURN THEM NOW!We need more butter. Oh my gosh! WHERE are we going to get MORE BUTTER? They're going to STICK! Careful. CAREFUL! I said be CAREFUL! You NEVER listen to me when you're cooking! Never! Turn them! Hurry up! Are you CRAZY? Have you LOST your mind? Don't forget to salt them. You know you always forget to salt them. Use the salt. USE THE SALT! THE SALT!'
The wife stared at him.
'What in the world is wrong with you? You think I don't know how to fry a couple of eggs?'
The husband calmly replied, 'I just wanted to show you what it feels like when I'm driving.'
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3 comments:
Don't know what you're talking about. I drove Miss Daisy down to Rehoboth, all around town, and back up. She never said a word. Of course, she was on pain killers and a little zoned out.
That's hilarious. I'd never heard that one before.
I just sent it to my dad, who also found it hilarious. Whether or not he'll show it to mom is questionable. I'd hate to have to explain to the kids their grandfather's untimely demise.
Thanks for the grin.
I'm pleased that Ms. Conroy is mobile again, and I know that you are too, Elizabeth, and your reasons for being pleased are not entirely pure. ;o)
Seriously, great news.
And Fr. Jake is back blogging.
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